


See It Through

by VeteranKlaus



Series: Details [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, It's sweet, M/M, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, They're dumbasses and in love, blind Klaus Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Few things manage to make Klaus happy these days, but the (presumably) cute bookstore employee is quickly becoming one of them.Or, Klaus and Dave's first date.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Details [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627579
Comments: 33
Kudos: 627
Collections: The Best of Klaus





	See It Through

**Author's Note:**

> I've made this into a series! I don't have solid plans on what's going to be included, be it a prequel, sequel, or just random drabbles, but I got hit with writer's block and then got hit with this idea and it was all I could write. So, enjoy! You probably don't need to read the first part of this; just know that Klaus was blinded in an accident, got sober enough to manifest Ben, and has his own apartment.

Few things managed to make Klaus happy, these days.

The rush of nicotine, for one. Ben being able to touch him, too. Britney Spears’ iconic _Womanizer,_ which is an obvious. But there were only so many cigarettes he could smoke and so many times he could listen to _Womanizer_ before they too begin to lose their appeal and their ability to spur him on through this tough spot in life.

It was pure luck that he encountered the next enjoyable thing in his life.

“Klaus,” said Ben, his voice heavy and desperate. “ _Come on_. Please? You don’t even need to buy it; we can just stay there and look at them. Or, you _could_ buy one, or two, and we can come right back and you don’t even need to touch them – you can listen to _America’s Next Top Model_ or go and chain-smoke, or _something_ , and just manifest me and that’s it. Klaus – please. You’re so lame. Do you know how many times I’ve read this same book? I could recite it to you. Is that what you want me to do? Recite it word for word, page after page, until it’s done, and I can start again-“

“Oh my fucking _god_ , Ben,” Klaus groaned loudly, throwing his head back. His hand searched out by his side until he found one of his cushions and he threw it in Ben’s directions. He didn’t make Ben corporeal, however, and the cushion clattered against something else (a lamp, maybe) and fell to the floor. “Would you shut up? Just this once? Literally just shut up.”

“No,” replied Ben, sounding way too defiant. Klaus had no doubt that he was stood upright, puffing his chest out, his arms folded across it and his head tilted up ever so slightly so that he was looking down his nose at Klaus. Klaus simply flipped him off. “I just want, like, _one_ book, Klaus, and you’re being a bitch about it-“

“ _I’m_ being a bitch?” Klaus retorted. “Have you heard yourself? Ben, I’m blind, and if you’ve gone deaf then we’re fucked.”

Ben made a noise, a mix of frustration and desperation. “You’re being a hermit,” he accused. “Mrs Torin coming by to make sure you’re still alive yesterday was the most human interaction you’ve had in the past two weeks.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “That’s a lie – _you_ never stop harassing me _every_ god damn day.”

Ben huffed. “You’re going to make yourself ill somehow, sitting and doing nothing all day, chain-smoking and doing shots at nine-AM, lacking vitamin D-“

“I hate you,” growled Klaus. “Like, literally so much. You’re so high on my shit list, Ben.” Nonetheless, he rose onto his feet and swept out a hand to grab his cane, nimble fingers wrapping around the lion’s head on it. He kept his grumbling up all the way to his bedroom, just to distract himself from the fact that he _knew_ Ben was just beaming at him, all smug and annoying.

He fumbled to pull open his wardrobe and reached a hand in, grabbing the first item of clothing his hand came into contact with.

“Change it; it’s hideous.”

Klaus turned his head to face Ben, eyebrows raising. Ben said nothing, holding his blind stare, and then Klaus reached one hand down to the rope-belt keeping his robe closed and he tugged it loose, allowing his robe to fall down his shoulders and onto a heap by his feet. He was wearing nothing beneath it, and he smirked a little triumphantly when he heard Ben’s huff of irritation as he looked away, the scuffle of his feet as he stepped back.

A little more pleased with himself, Klaus fingered the material of the shirt in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. A button up, but sheer? With some weird lacing on the sleeves and an itchy collar. Ben was probably right. With a sigh, he threw it aside and reached back into his wardrobe, grabbing the next thing hanging up. It was a hoodie, and so he assumed it was probably not too hideous, so he pulled it on and moved on to finding his underwear and a skirt, almost tripping over his discarded robe as he pulled it on. He pulled on his shoes, made Ben promise they were a matching pair, and then pulled on a fur coat over his hoodie, found his cane, shoved his sunglasses onto his face, and made his way out of his apartment.

Sunlight warmed his skin and he couldn’t help but tilt his face into it, briefly bathing in it and allowing himself to simply enjoy the feeling accompanied by the light breeze that ruffled his hair, the feel of fresh air on his skin and in his throat. It was refreshing after being huddled indoors for so long, though he wouldn’t admit it, would never prove Ben right.

After lingering just on the street, he forced himself onwards.

He had the way into the city memorised for the most part and simply trusted Ben on instructing him where to go or what to do for the rest of it, and trusted other people to not shove him on the street (though often times that trust was misplaced.)

Ben kept in step by his side, chattering nonstop about trivial things; how nice it was to be outside, how his skin would probably love him for finally getting to see the sun, and his lungs, too, for finally getting some air that wasn’t stale with cigarette smoke, and how it was a nice day; how eager he was to get a look at some new books after so long. Klaus could be certain that he’d probably indulged Ben’s reading multiple times by now, though Ben liked to make a point on how if he hadn’t done it in the past week, it didn’t count.

“I mean, there’s the library we could go to, a street down from the main shopping centre, or there’s that really overpriced shop _in_ the shopping centre. Or we could go to that little shop, the one that’s just past the Academy, though I think that might have closed down by now. Or – oh, wait, Klaus, stop here a moment.”

Klaus stopped rather abruptly (he heard a few mutters from people whom had almost walked right into him) and took a step back, hopefully no longer standing right in the middle of the street. “Hmm?”

“This is new,” said Ben. “Well, maybe not new, but we usually go to the others. We don’t usually walk this way.”

“Cool. What is it?”

“A bookstore. It’s cute. Come on, let’s check it out; two steps to your right and forwards. We’ve been here a few times before.”

Klaus obeyed, knowing that if he didn’t he would just end up lost and Ben would either not help him for an hour or so or he would ‘help him’ by giving him directions right back to the bookstore.

The door chimed gently as he stepped inside and he was immediately hit with the warmth of the shop accompanied by the smell of old books and paper. He could hear the rustle of pages deeper into the store and the quiet shuffle of feet. His hand that wasn’t holding his beloved cane stretched its fingers out slightly, reaching out a few inches by his side; just enough to brush by the bookshelves as he wandered further inside. He let Ben guide him through aisles of bookshelves, pausing every so often to pull out a book and hold it up for Ben to see both the front cover and read what was on the back. It was a slow process, one Klaus made even slower by deliberately missing the book Ben told him to pull out, but he was glad to say that going outside had boosted his feelings, even if only a little.

He felt more energetic than he had the past two weeks, for he had spent that time sleeping in multiple different places around his apartment, powering through his packet of cigarettes, heating up frozen pizza or chicken nuggets and fumbling to find the alcohol he had stashed into one cupboard in his kitchen.

Though he had found relative peace with his situation, there were times where he felt as if he was back to square one; he was suddenly reminded of the fact that he had almost died, that never would he be able to see Ben’s face again, or be able to stare into a mirror and do eyeshadow, or something as cliché as seeing a sunset ever again. And sometimes the emotions would be too much and he would have no motivation to try and live what he felt would be a worthless life, so he wasted the days by doing nothing as if he felt that they were coming to an end soon and so nothing mattered.

Ben, bless him, did what he could during these episodes; often trying to encourage him to go outside and take a walk, or to simply sit in the park and listen to music, or start a new television series; anything, but Klaus was nothing if not stubborn and incredibly skilled in ignoring Ben. He’d had years of practice.

But, this time (like most time) Ben had been correct once more; going outside had given him a burst of unfamiliar energy and he enjoyed being somewhere that he rarely visited. It felt normal; nice.

“Oh, stop here,” said Ben, hovering close to his shoulder. Klaus did. “Okay, lift your hand up to the next shelf – yep, forwards, four books to the left. That one, yeah, good.” He pulled the book out of its place and held it up for a few seconds before he turned it around so that his brother could read the back of it.

“Can you open it?” Said Ben. Klaus did, and he thumbed through the pages until coming to the opening page of the first chapter, and he held it a probably awkward angle so that Ben could stand by him and read.

He was content enough to stand and flick the pages following Ben’s request, letting his own thoughts wander. Sometimes he would try and visualise the place he was in based off what he already knew. The placement of the door and the length of the aisles, the display tables and the spacing between bookshelves, the way light filtered in through windows and hit him at certain points; the sound of the cash register up ahead and people to his right. He could almost picture it; almost, but not quite. He had been losing the ability to visualise things that he wasn’t intimately familiar with for a while now; places he had never seen before would remain a visual mystery to him, no matter how many times he might visit them.

It was unfortunate, but there was nothing he could do but memorise them in the steps it took from the doors to the romantic genre and the fact that if he took two steps backwards then his face would warm in the sunlight coming through a window.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent there – probably too long, really, he had just come into a bookstore and read a book as if it was his without paying – but approaching footsteps and the way Ben shifted to step back told him that he was probably going to get asked to either buy something or leave.

Instead, the approaching person said, with a voice like smooth honey; “can I help you, sir?”

Klaus blinked behind his sunglasses as if thrown by the question. “Oh,” he said. “Uh, I’m good.” He lifted the book in his hands up, his thumb planted firmly between the pages to keep his (Ben’s) spot. “Just, you know… reading.”

The man let out a little hum. “You seem to do a lot of that,” he commented, and heat rose to Klaus’ cheeks.

“You’re teasing this poor man,” said Ben. “He thinks you can read.”

Klaus, like he often did, ignored Ben. “Yeah, yeah. My brother, he, uh, he loves to read. Kind of passed that onto me.” The lie fell uncertainly from his lips, unconvincing and arguably one of the worst lies he had ever told (right behind _I’ll have the money soon_ and _no, I’m not high, asshole._ )

“ _Little Women_?” Mused the man. Klaus and his ever-wandering thoughts couldn’t help but wonder how he sounded when he sang. “I’ve been meaning to get around to reading that. Is it any good?”

Klaus’ lips moved silently, helplessly, his head moving from the book in his grasp to the man.

“Tell him and break his heart,” said Ben. “Tell him the truth. You can’t convince him you’re reading this.”

He could, Klaus thought, if Ben was kind and actually cooperated with him to tell him whether or not the book was good.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, thumb running over the page. “I guess. Pretty interesting. I… like it.”

“Oh,” said the man, suddenly sounding excited. “If you like that kind of stuff, you might like this – hold on-“

He heard the man’s footsteps retreat hurriedly and his whole body deflated like a burst balloon. Beside him, Ben sniggered.

“Klaus, you’re going to break his heart,” his brother said. “You need to tell him – but, like, you’re in too deep now.”

“Shut up,” Klaus growled, closing the book and losing Ben’s place in it. “I’m doing this for you, asshole.”

“He’s getting you more books to read, Klaus,” Ben announced, a little further down the aisle but quickly drifting back to his side. “What are you going to do?”

“Shut up,” he reiterated between grinding teeth. “I – it’ll be, like, two minutes, and then we’re going and I’m never buying you another book again.”

“Jerk,” Ben muttered, though he sounded more smug than anything. He fell quiet at the return of the employee, fumbling with an armful of books. Klaus set Ben’s one aside, feeling rather like a deer in headlights as he was handed different books with the man going on and on about them. It was evident he was passionate about the books and it made Klaus’ stomach do funny things, the way his voice picked up so eagerly as he spoke, so happy to share them with Klaus, and how invested he was in Klaus; he asked him his favourite book, his favourite author, favourite genre; if he preferred books or films, if he had read some classic piece of literature.

Klaus accepted everything he was handed and everything the man said wordlessly, nodding dumbly and humming responses. Every time he opened his mouth to break the news to the man (whom had said his name at some point and shaken his hand, but Klaus’ brain was short circuiting at this rate, although he could remember, in vivid detail, that his hands were warm and firm and would probably feel pretty nice on his cheek or his waist) he simply continued on with such a shine to his voice that Klaus couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Ben found the whole situation entirely amusing and offered no help whatsoever.

Eventually, however, Klaus found it in himself to make his throat work properly and he leaned forwards, reaching a hand out until he felt the man’s wrist and curled his fingers around it.

“Look, I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” he said, “because, quite frankly, you sound adorable and I feel horrible letting this continue.” He could feel how the man faltered, voice falling short and body stilling, tensing ever so slightly in response to Klaus’ words. “I’m blind as shit,” he declared.

The man was silent for several moments. “What?”

Klaus’ lips spread in an apologetic, sheepish smile, and he tapped his nail against his sunglasses. “I can’t see shit, man. I, uh – sorry?” He hesitated, fumbling for an excuse and drawing up blank for several moments. “I – I think it’s funny, coming into stores and pretending to read because, well; I can’t. And usually I wouldn’t say anything but you sound like a real wholesome man – uh-“ What was his name again? He couldn’t remember. Thankfully, the man caught on.

“Dave,” he repeated.

“Dave,” echoed Klaus, grinning widely. “Yeah.”

An awkward silence stretched between them for several moments and Klaus’ grin wavered.

“Oh, god,” the man, Dave, groaned. He sounded mortified. “I’m – shit – I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

Klaus hurried to shake his head, dismissing him. “No, no, no, don’t be sorry; I tricked you,” he told him. “It’s chill.”

“No, I – oh, god, I’m sorry-“

“Dave, stop that-“

“Coffee,” blurted the man, once more succeeding in throwing Klaus once more. “Let me buy you coffee. Please.”

Klaus blinked as if trying to process the offer before his lips twitched upwards. “Well,” he said, “I can’t say no to a coffee.”

###

They had agreed to meet at a specific coffee shop – one Klaus knew, so it was easier for him to get to, and one he liked and often frequented these days – a little while after Dave’s shift ended. It gave Klaus enough time to walk back to his apartment, storm up the stairs, stumble out of his shoes and trip his way into his bedroom.

“Ben,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder. “Ben, you got to help me get a better outfit.”

Ben, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, hummed. “Why?”

Klaus turned his head to more accurately face him and he pulled a face. “Why? Because you got me into this situation in the first place, shithead. Help me!”

Ben groaned dramatically, feet thudding onto the floor as he stood up and trudged to Klaus’ side in front of his wardrobe. It took him several moments to be able to make Ben corporeal, struggling to focus enough to do it but luckily managing to do so eventually, and he sat down while Ben searched through his clothes.

“It’s just a coffee date, right?” Ben asked. Klaus nodded.

“I think so. Oh, do you think I should shave? Just in case?”

Ben made a noise. “I don’t know.”

Klaus pressed his lips together, mulling the thought over. He seemed like a nice guy, pretty wholesome, and probably not one to fuck on the first date – especially a relaxed coffee kind of date – so he assumed it ought to be fine, but one could never be too careful.

He had never felt this excited since the accident. His body practically shook with excitement at the idea of going out on a _date_ , of meeting another man that took interest in it. At some point, his self-loathing had expanded to include the belief that somehow being blind meant that no man would ever look at him with interest, be it romantic or purely sexual, and though he wasn’t one to brag, going from hardly ever being turned down by any of his own pursuits, and being pursued often, to a _forever-alone_ belief was jarring. He hadn’t made any recent attempts to either date or sleep with anyone since the accident, whether he had actively wanted to or simply wanted to reassure himself that he could, and a part of him was relieved that it seemed that it might not even hinder his romantic or sex life.

Or perhaps he was reading too much into it and Dave was simply so mortified that he just wanted to buy him coffee as an apology.

“Uh, well, what kind of thing are you thinking? Skirt?” Klaus pressed his lips together. He felt pretty in a skirt, knew he looked pretty in one, too, and he had plenty, so he nodded his head and listened to Ben sift through them. “Oh, you know what? Hold on, I think I’ve found an outfit.”

Klaus cocked his head to the side. Ben seemed eager to pull the clothes out, laying them out beside him on the bed. He even went so far as to pull a coat down from the back of his door and bring a pair of shoes up, and then he stood, eying the outfit before nudging Klaus. “Try it on.”

“What is it?”

“Those black boots with the slight heel, the black skirt that’s long at the back but shorter at the front – you’ll feel it, you like that one – and a white sheer top. And, that black fur jacket you have. I think it’ll look nice.”

Klaus hummed, pulling the outfit on and letting his hands run over the fabric, trying to picture it. It felt nice, felt very _him,_ and he thought that Ben’s sense of fashion was getting better.

“Does it look good?” He asked, doing a little twirl. The skirt flared out around his legs and he couldn’t help but smile. God, he felt like he was high again, all because of some invitation to a date that might not even be a date.

“I’d say so,” said Ben, and Klaus grinned.

“Great! How long have we got?”

A pause. “Just about an hour. We can leave in forty minutes or so; it’ll take time to get there.”

Klaus flopped back down onto his bed. “Well, in that case, dear Ben; what does this mystery man look like? Is he handsome.”

Ben snorted, sitting down next to him, humming thoughtfully. “You’d probably think so. A kind of browny-blond hair, kind of curly, blue eyes. He has freckles and he’s just a bit taller than you. Nice jaw.”

“Hey,” Klaus said, frowning. “That’s _my_ man you’re talking about!”

Ben slapped his arm.

###

He was late.

Of course he was fucking late.

In his defence, it wasn’t his fault. He’d had the stupid idea of getting Ben to try and do some lipstick on him, and then the lipstick had smudged and it hadn’t come off without leaving a stubborn stain, and then they’d tried again, and again, and again, and Mrs Torin from across the hall came to ask him why he was yelling and then stayed to talk to him about her grandson that he reminded her of and – fuck.

At least he got the lipstick corrected, however.

He stumbled into the coffee shop in quite a state, Ben already ahead as lookout. He wasn’t _too_ late, but he was still late, and perhaps Dave wasn’t patient or had thought Klaus had stood him up-

“Hey, Klaus!” Called a voice, and there was the scrape of a nearby chair and footsteps approaching. Klaus stood upright a little more, forcing himself to exhale evenly.

“Dave?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me,” said that familiar honey-voice, and Klaus’ shoulders slumped in relief.

“Oh, Christ, thank god; I’m sorry I’m late, you won’t believe it-“

“Hey, hey, that’s fine,” dismissed Dave with a light tone. “I’m in no rush. How about we sit down?”

Klaus fixed a smile onto his face, nodding, and then he lifted out his arm pointedly. Dave, fortunately, caught sight of it and linked their arms, guiding him to the table he had taken. He even pulled the chair out for him. The gesture made butterflies in Klaus’ stomach stretch out their wings.

“This is a nice place,” Dave commented, and Klaus hummed.

“They’re the best, here,” he declared, leaning forwards. “Their chocolate eclairs? Ugh, to die for.”

Dave sucked in a breath, murmuring, “I might have to try one.”

Klaus nodded eagerly. “Do it! You won’t regret it, I swear!”

###

The conversation began to flow. Klaus ordered an éclair and a hot chocolate; Dave ordered an éclair and a coffee. Then, later, they ordered a strawberry cheesecake and split it between the two of them as Dave told him a story.

“So, obviously, I couldn’t just back out there, right? Everyone was watching me; people I didn’t know where chanting my name, and it was like everything in life had built up for this moment. It was just me and that keg and the tequila running through my veins.”

Klaus snorted, a hand over his mouth to hide the sight of chewed cheesecake in his mouth. “Did you – did you do it?”

“Oh,” said Dave, voice low. “Did I do it? _It_ did _me_ ,” he said with a chuckle, and Klaus squealed. “I had to get carried out of the party because I couldn’t feel my legs, and James was also shit-faced and he was all, _oh, no, you’re not going up a path, it’s this way_ , and led us a different where he thought the sidewalk was, only to bring us face to face with a tree. Which, actually, was pretty good, because I threw up, then.”

Klaus laughed, nearly choking on his cheesecake before he hurried to swallow it down. “No, no, I get that, though,” he said, nodding his head. “Oh, god, there was this one time I was – I was _gone_ , like, I was just on a different planet, and my friend kept trying to take me outside for air, and I threw a full tantrum because we were _already_ outside and he was being stupid, but I’d just been sitting and staring at this painting of a field for, like, a solid half hour, thinking I was there.”

Dave snorted, hand covering his mouth to try and muffle little laughs that Klaus wished he would just let out, even if they were contagious and sent him into his own fit of laughter. They both remained hunched over the table, snickering and giggling and stabbing cutlery into slices of cheesecake as if the reminder they had food there to eat might avert their laughter. It didn’t work.

He hadn’t laughed like this in a – a _long_ time, he thought. Not this hard; not genuinely. Even before the accident that left him struggling to feel much of any emotion, he didn’t think he had enjoyed a night like this, truly enjoyed it, with no thoughts of business transactions or drugs or violence or sexual encounters he just put up with to get it over with. No, now he was simply enjoying himself, struggling to catch his breath against his uncontrollable laughter.

###

Dave, he learned, was a year older than himself, and had moved to the city not too long ago. He was a veteran, still struggling to really settle down and adjust once more to civilian life, but he was doing well lately, he had said. He was Jewish, and he, evidently, loved to read and liked to cook, and he thought that the lipstick Klaus was wearing looked very nice with his outfit and his whole vibe, as he had put it.

He liked cats and had a tendency to do dumb things when he was drunk which always left him with plenty stories to tell, like he already had, and he had a tendency of saying the same word as Klaus at the same time.

Klaus had a much better time than he had expected to, truthfully. There was a spring in his step as they paid and left the coffee shop, continuing this little date or whatever it was in the form of a walk around the streets, talking animatedly to one another. At one point, Dave wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him out of the way of walking right into a lamppost, and his arm remained there for the rest of the date.

He insisted on walking Klaus home, which Klaus was more than happy with. He was sad to see the night come to an end. He wanted to keep talking to Dave forever; he felt like he could never tire of hearing his voice and sharing stupid stories with him. He wanted to know everything about Dave.

It was weird. He’d been on plenty of dates before and he felt like he’d never felt like this after any of them. He’d hardly ever wanted to get to know the person in a genuine, innocent way – if he did, it was because they were either a diagnosed sociopath with ties to some mafia in a different country, or something so insane that anyone would be curious – like he did with Dave. His cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much and he feared that, once Dave left, he would never see him again.

Dave saw him to his door, though, and Klaus didn’t immediately go to unlock it. He wanted to remain with Dave’s arm around him for just a little longer.

“I, uh, had a lovely time, _David_ ,” he said with a grin, turning to face him. Dave chuckled, hand warm on his waist as they began to slowly, reluctantly, disentangle from one another.

“Yeah,” he said, “me too, Klaus. I feel like I just had coffee with some mythical legend, some folk cryptid.”

Klaus snickered, nudging him. “That was my whole aim for tonight,” he declared. Words faltered slightly after that; a tension thick in the air, goodbyes choked in their throat.

“I, uh. Maybe we could do this again?” Dave asked hopefully, voice quiet. Klaus nodded eagerly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. I mean, you know where I live, now.”

Dave chuckled. “I spend the majority of my life in that bookstore,” said Dave. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed his side, an uncertain tic as he hovered.

Kissing wasn’t hard for Klaus to do. It was something he threw himself into; head first into hungry kisses, all teasing tongue and teeth accompanied by wandering hands and desperate tugs. He didn’t hesitate – not usually. Now, he did. He could lean forwards and grab Dave’s jaw and press their lips together with enough force to make them both stumble and then fumble to unlock his door and fall back into his bedroom, or he could leave it lingering in the air, turn and go inside, and save it for later, or for never.

He wasn’t sure he wanted either.

Instead, he simply rested his hand on Dave’s chest and tilted his head to the side. Dave’s head ducked and, for some inexplicable reason, Klaus’ heart hammered beneath his ribcage. With Dave’s hand resting, gentle, feather-light, on his neck, he feared he might be able to feel how fast it was beating.

Then Dave closed the distance and Klaus leaned into the kiss, something sweet and gentle and passionate, something that made Klaus’ stomach do leaps and made his head spin.

They pulled back, lingering inches from one another, and Klaus swallowed.

“Are you working tomorrow?” He asked, voice quiet. Dave nodded.

“Yeah, I am.”

Klaus grinned and giggled, letting his hand pat Dave’s chest. “Good thing I need to buy some more books, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, Davey.”

He forced himself to step backwards despite how much he wanted to pull Dave with him. He didn’t want this to be something familiar, however; didn’t want this to turn into a sudden, careless fling.

Dave cleared his throat and Klaus wondered what his smile looked like. “Yeah,” he said, sounding excited, “yeah, you will. Goodnight, Klaus.”

Klaus set his hand on the door handle. “Goodnight,” he returned, and then he stepped inside.

That feeling – that stomach twisting, heart racing, knee trembling feeling – did not leave him when Dave did, despite what he had feared. It hardly left him all that night, and he fell asleep with his stomach still flipping with excitement for the next morning, to hear his voice again, and Klaus felt happy again. Genuinely happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear any feedback! They're just Sweet


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